A mirror sits on the floor
against the wall, empty.
It reflects the room.
The kindness it once reflected
is gone. She is gone.
A turtle of all things
is on the back porch outside
the French Doors, without a child.
The house is empty. The three floors
echo only silence. And yet here is a lawn mower
just entering the garage. Here is the voice of their son
and his father. Here is a leaf falling from the tree.
Here is a window. Here is the emptiness again of
tomorrow.